


quousque tandem abutere, Cersei, patientia nostra?

by janie_tangerine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Politics, Cersei Lannister Bashing, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, HONESTLY CERSEI FANS STEER CLEAR OF THIS I WARNED YOU, Latin, M/M, Multi, Past Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Tyrion Lannister is a Good Sibling, Tyrion Lannister is also A Gift, and he's done with his sister but who isn't at this point, is this a crack italian politics au? absolutely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23204194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: in which Tyrion isdonewith his sister.Incidentally, he also prevents a government crisis.
Relationships: Bronn/Tyrion Lannister, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 28
Kudos: 183





	quousque tandem abutere, Cersei, patientia nostra?

**Author's Note:**

> Or: hi from the quarantine coronavirus shitposting land again, my current writing challenge had 'use a latin quote for your fic' and guess what I had been wanting to use _this_ one for years for this specific situation so here we go - also, this incidentally turned into a 'italian politics au from the mess that brought to the crisis of the previous government' and I feel like it's poetic that I write it in quarantine when if we still had the old government we'd all be fucked to hell and back. Italians around are welcome to guess who's who. ;)
> 
> Other note: if not clear, the title quote is from Cicero's uber famous oration concerning his rival Catilina - the title which is the opening means 'for how long are you going to abuse our patience' and that's all you need to know, more info will be in the end notes ;) other than that: nothing belongs to me except the crack, PRETEND THAT WESTEROS IS A PLACE IN OUR WORLD WHERE THEY STUDY LATIN and I'll saunter back downwards. I'm just sorry I couldn't publish this on the ides of march for obvious reasons but here we go.

Let it be said, at the end of all things, that everything that Tyrion Lannister has ever wanted in his life was to fucking _teach Latin_ at his nice university in Lannisport where he had earned an extremely good position at an extremely young age, and certainly _not_ to get involved with his family’s fucking political drama — he has, sadly, given up on the regular drama a long time ago, even if he has tried to distance himself from it as much as possible.

And yet, _here he is_ , trying to not let himself fall prey to the headache threatening to split his brain right now as he hears his sister rant and _rant_ and rant on live TV and saying an amount of such completely _idiotic_ things that he barely can conceive put in the same speech, and this _while_ she keeps on making both his and Jaime’s life hell even _outside_ politics.

He should have never accepted to go into politics.

_And yet_.

Rewind.

Now, Tyrion never made much of his father having been the head of the most corrupt right winged party in the entirety of the Westerlands since he understood what Tywin Lannister did for a living, and only was thankful for it because it meant that he wasn’t home _that_ much, and when he was Tyrion only ever wished he’d go back to fucking political conventions or electoral campaigns where he showed to the world how much of a shitty person he was. At least _he_ never was in the official pictures for gossip magazines that were taken in the house for the entirety of his life until he lived there, because of course his father didn’t want _him_ ruining the show.

He also was fairly thankful for _that_ , considering the number it did on Jaime who _hated_ it.

Now, not ever being in the house, Tywin Lannister never actually understood that while he was gone Jaime and Cersei were up to things that would have certainly jeopardized any eventual victory at the elections if anyone ever found out, while Tyrion _sadly_ was more than aware of it, and he had tried to convince Jaime that it was just bad news since he actually _could_ , except that it had done _more_ than a number on him, too, and he hadn’t realized that Cersei never really gave a fuck about _him_ until Tywin decided to retire after a bad stroke and she fancied herself his successor at the helm of the party… which of course meant that she couldn’t risk having a relationship with her twin brother on the side now, _didn’t it_ , and Tyrion is nowhere near sure that the last year of therapy has put a more than a dent in solving Jaime’s emotional baggage-related crap, but he’s going somewhere with it.

Incidentally, that was _after_ Tywin had about kicked him out of the house post-stroke because he utterly refused to take his place — of course, no one bar Tyrion knew that Jaime _never_ voted for his father once in his entire life and is entirely more left-leaning, not that it would have taken that much to notice, but of course they didn’t.

At that point Tyrion, who had _long_ been disinherited because he refused to work behind the scenes for the party’s social media managing (because _of course_ they knew he’d be good at that but he has got ethics, thank you, and he wouldn’t want to goad people into voting for anyone with those positions throwing fake news at them) and had been enjoying his tenure teaching Latin, as stated above, because he actually _did_ like it and he was good at it and he certainly preferred Roman history drama to current times drama, had told him to just share his apartment, it was big enough for two and honestly, considering how much of a mess Jaime was at that point, he’d have felt like complete shit leaving him without anyone around. _Especially_ considering that thanks to his sister’s manipulative _and_ exceedingly creepy ways, he has no friends that weren’t Tyrion’s first.

And then two months later, while things were getting cautiously better and Jaime was tentatively making friends with the extremely tall neighbor next door who was always perfectly nice to Tyrion _and_ who is everything Cersei was _not_ , and Tyrion was absolutely encouraging it, he got the call from Stannis Baratheon, as in, the leader of the _left_ -center party that was more or less trying to hold back the currently wave of People Voting Right Wing Because Of Fake-News Based Propaganda without much success.

“Lannister,” he had said, “you _know_ your sister is taking your father’s place and that she wants to run for PM.”

“Yes, and how can I help you with _that_?”

Tyrion had thought he could hear the man’s teeth gritting through the phone. “I’ll be frank — the next election looks like a disaster. The new electoral law is _terrible_ and considering that Cersei’s party has more or less the same priorities as Euron Greyjoy’s —”

Tyrion shuddered, thinking of the party the man is fronting — a bunch of unprepared people whose selling point is that they’re not professional politicians and so they’re not corrupt and they want to kick everyone else out of the Parliament. Which, as much as Tyrion agrees that the politicians in Westeros _all_ need a wake-up call, isn’t exactly a remedy, since Tyrion also firmly believes that politicians should _know what the fuck they’re doing_ , and people who _don’t_ on top of being half anti-vaxxers and half without an opinion anything but the fact politicians suck are not the solution to anyone’s problem. Too bad that they actually _do_ talk to people that feel ignored by both their government _and_ the Westerosi union and no one has managed to swindle their electorate yet.

“— at this point I _know_ that they’ll most likely make a coalition after the elections, with the numbers they have, and I need some smart people here _and_ people who know how your sister ticks, and I know that you have said multiple times that you would vote for _us_ even if we’re not progressive enough for you —”

Tyrion wishes he _never_ had accepted interviews from newspapers, but… it was because he wanted to piss his father off.

“— _please_ consider running for us. We’d pick you as a front-runner someplace you would get elected for sure, it’s five years of exceedingly good benefits and you would still have your university job at the end of it. I’m _begging_ ,” Baratheon had sighed, “we need all the help we can.”

Tyrion, right now, wishes that he had done the selfish thing and said no.

But he had thought of the alternative, and most of all, Cersei in a position of power with everyone on the other side not privy to exactly how _bad_ she is, and said yes before he could think it through.

Now: he did get elected.

Cersei and Euron also won the damned elections, Euron with more votes, but Cersei got entirely too many and enough to make sure that her withdrawal from the coalition would cause a mayhem.

Which meant that he’s spent a year in the Parliament wishing he never said yes because the last year has been a constant succession of his sister being the overbearing arse she is and having done her best to make sure no one ever wants to come live in the Westerlands to work lest they’re branded illegal immigrants wanting to steal honest people’s jobs (and that was just the first item on the list), and on top of that Cersei took his running and election as a personal slight and now, _each single evening_ , she shows up under his house — sadly _she_ has bodyguards, he doesn’t — and keeps on pestering both him and Jaime by buzzing at their intercom until one of them answers. It’s Jaime most of the time because _he_ is usually working until midnight at this rate, and it’s _not_ good for him because the longer it happens the more he looks like he’ll have a mental breakdown if she doesn’t _stop_ , and while it hasn’t been enough to deter Brienne — as in, Extremely Tall Neighbor — from being friends (they’re still dancing around each other but Tyrion can see they _like_ each other and he lives for the moment they figure it out)… it has been enough to make him sleep like shit and get somewhat paranoid about it.

Honestly, the only good thing he’s gained out of it is that he ended up with a parliamentary assistant, Bronn, with whom first he immediately clicked out of having the exact same sense of humor and the same political stances, and _now_ —

Well, now you can’t blame him if they’re fucking on the side, but it’s about the one thing that keeps him from losing his shit completely these days.

_Anyway_ , it’s been a year of Cersei basically acting Prime Minister even if the PM is _technically_ their uncle Kevan, who was picked because he was _not a politician_ (fair, he teaches law at university, too) and who has pretty much been overshadowed by both her and Euron until now, never mind that Tyrion was sure that Cersei and Euron absolutely slept together… _while_ she kept on showing up at his place driving Jaime insane.

Then — well.

Tyrion doesn’t know if it was the fact that she and Euron obviously stopped fucking _or_ the fact that thanks to her sadly entirely too competent social media managing team (Tyrion _really_ should have made sure they hired someone incapable instead of this _Qyburn_ guy who has indeed turned it into some kind of nightmare fake-news generator machine where Cersei gains popularity every other moment posting selfies, tweeting racist bullshit, half-doxxing teenagers who criticize her positions and so on) she has gained a _shitload_ of approval rating points in recent polls, but long story short, Cersei decided to fall into what ancient Greeks would have called a textbook showing of hubris all over the place and withdrew support from the government, hoping to make the entire circus crash so they can go to the next elections that she _would_ most likely win, according to the polls.

Oh, and she decided to do it in the middle of August, which is why they’re all standing in collective parliamentary session, listening to her rant about how much she cares for the Westerlands’s future and she’s only doing this because she puts _the people_ first and a whole other load of bullshit that is making Tyrion want to scream. Never mind that for _this_ kind of hearing, she’d have at most ten minutes to talk and she’s been talking for at least twenty and even with _this_ coming, yesterday she found the time to drop at his apartment again and Tyrion _should_ check his phone because Brienne promised to send him updates concerning his brother’s currently _not really great_ situation since he didn’t take _this_ one visit well, except that he can’t because you don’t check your phone in the middle of a hearing if you’re a professional.

Seriously, ten minutes waxing poetical about _I would do everything I already did all over again_ which is fucking ridiculous considering that among what she did was closing the borders with everyone else, prevent Northerners from coming into the country unless they had a permit and making people starve in prisons because who cares about inmates, let’s have a few budget cuts, and what the fuck does it mean that _in this room there are free men and women and some others that are a little less free because they fear the judgment of the people_? Who even fucking _judged_ them at this point?

Anyway, that was just the beginning, because then she went on a rant about caring just about people who work and what’s the matter if she’s opened a government crisis in August, since _people work in August and members of this House should too_ , and of course it’s not _her_ who is in a hurry but _it’s the people who are in a hurry_ … to see her elected, he supposes. According to her. Sure as hell _he_ is in no hurry to do such a thing. Then she went into a rant about how it was unjust that she was singled among the rest when it came to being criticized, and at that point she had wildly passed her twenty minutes but _kept on fucking talking_ the same way she ignored _any_ rule or law in the last year, and at this point Tyrion would pay to just go back to his nice bachelor’s class and teach them Suetonius, whose drama he sorely misses right now —

And then Cersei says _that_.

“And concerning sovereignty and freedom, as Cicero said: freedom doesn’t mean having a just master, but it means having no master at all, and I don’t want us to be anyone’s slaves, I don’t want a long chain like dogs do, I don’t want chains at all —"

_What the fuck_.

How is wanting the Westerlands to be in the goddamned Union a _bad thing_ , for fuck’s sake? And what does poor Cicero have to do with being quoted like _that_ when it makes no sense whatsoever?

Gods, Tyrion should just — keep his mouth shut. But —

_But_ that’s his damned livelihood and he can’t stand for such a slander, never mind that he’s fucking _done_ with Cersei trying to pass herself as a poor victim of the circumstances when she’s honestly the worst thing that’s ever happened to him and to the damned country, for that matter, and for a moment he thinks about the last text he read from Brienne before he walked inside the hearing —

Ah, fuck this.

He lowers his mike and clears his throat, and figures that if he gets a fine for this it’s going to be worth it, and patience if he’s on live television.

“Quo usque tandem abutere, Cersei, patientia nostra?” He interrupts, and at _that_ she does shut up. Oh, _finally_. He could stop there, but —

Nah.

At this point he’ll just go for it.

“Quam diu etiam furor iste tuus nos eludet? Quem ad finem sese effrenata iactabit audacia? Nihilne te nocturnum praesidium Palati, nihil urbis vigiliae, nihil timor populi, nihil concursus bonorum omnium, nihil hic munitissimus habendi senatus locus, nihil horum ora voltusque moverunt? Patere tua consilia non sentis, constrictam iam horum omnium scientia teneri coniurationem tuam non vides?”

“What are you even _saying_?”

He smirks.

“That’s Cicero for you,” Tyrion replies, “but you wouldn’t know _that_ now. I mean, if your speech writers took care to at least _explain_ you what you’re quoting now it would look a tad more dignified, wouldn’t it?”

Honestly, if he has to pay a fine for this, it’s so going to be worth it, considering how much she’s _seething_.

“Anyway, you were thirty minutes into your _supposed_ ten minutes long speech and I really don’t have that much to say, so since I’m here, apologies to the President of this chamber, but I’ll just… say my piece and be done. First, if that wasn’t clear, I was asking you how much longer are you planning to abuse everyone’s patience with your nonsensical speeches _and_ frankly laughable populist rhetoric, because you haven’t said _anything_ until now that couldn’t be summed up in ‘I know I have enough numbers to maybe win the elections and so I’m overthrowing the government because I want to be PM and I’ll try to make it pass as a feminist achievement while I’m at it’ when last I checked it was Mr. Sparrow in _your_ party proposing to outlaw abortion, which I am sure is _not_ on any feminist agenda last I checked.”

“It wasn’t _your turn_ —”

“ _Cersei_ , you stole at least _three_ turns and I’m almost done. So, the summary of your speech is that you want to go vote even if we still have four years until we _should_ and you put the entire country on hold because of that, and you can fake-news your way out of it as much as you like but at some point people will notice because they’re not idiots, so for the love of everything _please_ stop abusing everyone’s patience and remember that no one says we _have_ to go voting if your former… co-runner Mr. Greyjoy decides to ally with someone else, because he still has more votes than _you_ , and please check what you’re quoting next time because that line was about _living under a monarchy_ , not about _being a republican state in an union with other republican states for their mutual benefit_. I’m done. Now, _are you_?” He smiles brightly as he delivers the last question.

Whatever happens now, at least he has that out of his chest.

And man, hadn’t he wanted to tell Cersei _that_ since forever.

— —

“You,” Bronn tells him later, when they’re out of the parliamentary room and trying to avoid journalists, “are either a genius or the dumbest cunt in existence and I still don’t fucking know what’s the answer, but _at least_ Stannis doesn’t want your head.”

“He doesn’t?”

“Nah,” Bronn goes on, ushering him inside a car, heading out from the back, “he thinks you could have waited until she was finished but she deserves it and moreover, _your_ approval rating in the polls has skyrocketed _and_ your party’s along with it because apparently people also were getting tired of your sister’s antics, _so_ there’s absolutely some way to spin this positively. For us at least. Meanwhile, it’s been what, two hours, and there’s already a remix of your speech.”

“ _What_?”

“A moment,” Bronn says, telling the driver Tyrion’s address and to please leave them at the back entrance of the building, then takes out his phone and —

_Holy shit_ , Tyrion says as Bronn starts the video. Someone _really_ put his Latin speech and turned it into… a… _remix_ with some music in the background that sounds like what people listen to in discos. Tyrion hasn’t ever been in one and sure as hell he won’t ever set a foot in one ever, but it’s just… _weird_.

“I guess that’s good advertising?”

“That’s _excellent_ advertising,” Bronn says. “Oh, and tomorrow President Mormont wants to meet you _and_ Stannis _and_ Greyjoy.”

“Wait, _what_ , Jeor Mormont wants to meet _me_ now? For what?”

“Well, apparently, according to his staff of course, in extreme confidentiality, he also thought Cersei was abusing the shit out of his patience, therefore he wants _you_ there too for eventual negotiations for a new majority. Ah, and you’ll have to pay a fine for having interrupted her.”

“Don’t care. Whatever, I can afford it. Wait, _what_ , he also thought — I mean, that was _obvious_ but —”

“Tyrion, you apparently channeled each single person in Westeros who hasn’t voted for her during that speech, so I would highly recommend you to sleep on it and think _very_ clearly about how you’re going to spin this from tomorrow because this could actually make your damned career in this field.”

“I want to teach Latin, fuck’s sake,” Tyrion groans.

“You’d give up all that money for _Latin_?”

“What,” Tyrion grins, “are you saying that you’re unaware of all the sweet things I could tell you in that valiant language if you just let me?”

“Oh, so now you’re going to use Latin pickup lines on me? And since when do you say _sweet_ things?”

“To _you_ I don’t because it’s not your thing, but you know what’s my plan for tonight since I _finally_ told my sister off and I have to celebrate?”

“Do tell,” Bronn grins, and —

“ _Pedicavo ego te et irrumabo_ ,” he says, and Bronn leans closer, making sure the driver can’t see what they’re up to.

“That,” he says, “didn’t sound very _sweet_ , but it sounded hot as hell, so just repeat it to me in the language for us poor ignorants. What’s the plan for tonight?”

“Oh, just that I’m going to stick my dick in your ass _and_ your mouth,” Tyrion whispers, and Bronn grins _harder_.

“Then I can’t wait,” he says, before going back to check the constant stream of notifications on his phone.

Tyrion honestly can’t fucking wait to get home.

And he can take the chance to send Jaime to sleep at Brienne’s once and for all. Maybe they _will_ get their heads out of their asses.

_A month later_

“Come on,” Brienne urges him from the sofa, “your brother is about to speak!”

“Coming!” Jaime finishes putting their take-out on the tray he had prepared in her kitchen before grabbing it and going to the living room where she’s sitting on the sofa, obviously waiting for him while there are still commercials on, but they should be done soon. “It’s not started yet?”

She shakes her head. “No, but it’s not going to be long left. Are you all right?”

Jaime is _not_ going to blurt that he’s moved she asks that each single time they watch some talk show where his sister is _mentioned_ , never mind present, but then again, they _did_ get their shit together and kissed for the first time that evening when Tyrion shut her up during her stupid hearing and Jaime had spent the entire day beside himself because when she had showed up the previous evening he had taken it _pretty damn fucking badly_ , so — it’s sweet that she doesn’t take for granted that he’s over it.

Shit, he’s thankful she doesn’t take that for granted at all, but he’ll talk to her about it at some point. Not _now_. Never mind that he’s done _way_ better since he went to her place that evening so Tyrion and Bronn could fuck in peace without him hearing _and_ he kind of never went back to Tyrion’s apartment, so — yeah. He’s fine. He _is_.

“I am,” he says, leaning in to kiss her, “I _really_ am. Come on, put the audio back on, I can’t wait to see what he’s cooked up this time.”

Brienne nods and does as they lay back against the cushions, Jaime’s head falling on her shoulder as he reaches down to grasp a piece of fried chicken from his take-out box. The commercials finish and the camera pans to the studio from where Petyr Baelish’s shitty talk show has been airing for the last… thirty years or so, and Jaime wouldn’t usually be caught dead watching it but they wanted Tyrion to comment on the fact that thanks to _his_ intervention, there is a new majority in Parliament, that his uncle is proving himself a halfway competent PM and that Cersei is spending her days telling everyone who’ll hear her that he’s the literal worst thing happened to Westeros and that it’s ridiculous that people would _like_ him and give him such a high approval rating — must be because of the _pity card._

Jaime thinks pity cards are the last thing his brother would play, but never mind _that_. Baelish does all the usual introductions and then sums up Cersei’s last interview on one of those newspaper their father funds, and Tyrion _laughs_ at the last assumption.

“Mr. Baelish,” he says, “I got to the point where I am _without_ playing the pity card and my sister knows it. But honestly, there is just one thing I have to say in the face of _that_ and the fact that she says she’s working restlessly for the community and then spent the last week-end getting drunk at her favorite beach disco.”

“Oh,” Baelish replies, “and what would that be now?”

Tyrion says nothing for one moment, and then he _smiles_ and Jaime recognizes that look, and he’s not surprised when the answer is —

“O tempora, o mores!”

End.

**Author's Note:**

> The translation of the entire speech is _When, O Catiline, do you mean to cease abusing our patience? How long is that madness of yours still to mock us? When is there to be an end of that unbridled audacity of yours, swaggering about as it does now? Do not the nightly guards placed on the Palatine Hill—do not the watches posted throughout the city—does not the alarm of the people, and the union of all good men—does not the precaution taken of assembling the senate in this most defensible place—do not the looks and countenances of this venerable body here present, have any effect upon you? Do you not feel that your plans are detected?_ , while _o tempora o mores_ is further in the text and means 'what times, what costumes' in a derogative sense.


End file.
